I Won't Let You Go, But I Can't Have You Either
by It's Just Apple Pie
Summary: Booth has a new love interest, Bren is drunk. WHAT IS HAPPENING to Booth and Brennan? Why did she run away from him? Why did she reject him in the 100th epi? REVIEW good bad-horrible story? TELL ME! The song I WON'T is involved


He was looking at Abigail Perkins. He was staring at her, giving her his charming sly smile. It was close to the smile he used to give me, it was a similar look, too.

Except he was looking at Abigail Perkins.

It was obvious that he just wanted friendship from me, yet I still couldn't give up. He was just too perfect.

Except he was looking at someone else, and he deserved it, he did, but it hurt more then I thought it would; to finally see that he wouldn't be here forever, that he didn't want me. That he never did enough to act on it.

Does that mean I can't tell him? Should I?

He looks happy, would I ruin it for him?

_Could_ I?

Suddenly, I found my self on the bar of the diner, it was 'disco night', or something, and it was dark, and there were lights Rica shading off the walls, the scene was giving me a headache. I didn't remember actually getting on the bar, I just remember being there, watching Booth and Abigail, sitting at _our_ diner table. The one by the window, the one that was Booth's and _mine_. And I felt _something_. I had tried to be numb for the past months, but now I was feeling something, something that wasn't nice.

I felt a burning hot moisture escape my right eye. I blinked, and started singing, swaying with my bottle of vodka, grasped to my chest, watching Booth just stare at _her_. I held on tighter to the three quarters gone bottle in my hands. It wasn't really singing, it was more like _screaming_ at Booth…

"I won't do what you told me

I won't do what you said, no,

I'm not gonna stop feeling

I'm not gonna forget it

I don't wanna start over

I don't wanna pretend it

You are not my lover

Guess you're only my friend"

Booth was giving me the craziest, rudest look, I've ever seen on his _perfect_ features. That look wasn't perfect, though, it was encouraging. I was feeling. I was _feeling_, again.

"Cause when you took my heart

It took it all

When you gave it back

I fell apart…"

"So!" I yelped.

"I won't do what you told me

I won't do what you said, no

I'm not gonna stop feeling

I'm not gonna forget it

I don't wanna start over

I don't wanna pretend it

You are not my lover

Guess you're only my friend

My friend

I won't... "

Drunken men were grabbing at my bare feet, but I didn't care, for I only saw one man, my _partner_, my reliable, compassionate partner.

"Well, maybe you're not right for me

Maybe this is hard to see

I get lost in your beauty

And I just stop questioning

Cause when you took my heart

You took it all

When you gave it back

It fell apart,"

I saw Angela coming towards me. Was that a grimace or a smirk she was wearing, anyway? Oh, I just don't care. Booth was still staring at me, and he made me feel small. I hate that feeling. Feeling…

"So, so, I _won't,_"

"I won't do what you told me

I won't do what you said, no

I'm not gonna stop feeling

I'm not gonna forget it

I don't wanna start over

I don't wanna pretend it

You are not my lover

Guess you're only my friend

Friend

I won't…"

Booth got up out of his chair, still staring, and I closed my eyes, and swayed with the music in my head.

"You say it's easier to burn than to build

You say it's easier to hurt than to heal

But I say you lose when you give up what you love

And I've lived my life without _you_ long enough…" I pointed my finger at him, and it was shaking, and I ran across the stage- or bar.

"So," I whispered that word, then felt a second wind, and started singing again.

"I won't do what you told me

I won't do what you said, no

I'm not gonna stop feeling

I'm not gonna forget it

I don't wanna start over

I don't wanna pretend it

You are not my lover

Guess you're only my friend

Friend

I won't..."

"No, I won't...I won't, I won't, _you damned asshole_, you hypocrite, you stupid arrogant, _liar_. "

I fell off the bar, but Angela and Booth caught me just in time. Didn't they always?

"What's _wrong _with you?" Booth spat.

"Sweetie, let's get you home…" Angela offered, and yet they were still holding me up.

Then I realized I was crying, crying over someone who was going to _leave _me.

I love him, yes, but I just…I just told him, and he asks what is wrong with me.

What _is_ wrong with me? I'm all _wrong_ for him.

What did I think would happen, that he would wrap me up in his arms, like before? Like when he cared, when we were Booth and Bones, in the diner, _together_. I brought the vodka to my lips, tasting the glass, awaiting the cold liquid to touch my chapped lips, impatiently.

"Jesus!" He grabbed the bottle from my hands, and I slapped him. "Damn it!" The vodka bottle smashed on the floor. "Look what you did now!" He accused, rubbing the wetness from his suit jacket, annoyed.

"I- Booth…I'm sorry." I whisper, willing him to call me Bones again.

"You should be! You know I was going to propose tonight? Now I'm all wet. I look like a dumb ass! You always manage to screw everything up. What's _wrong_ with you? Can't I have one night with out your bullshit, with out you _needing_ me? My _God, _get a life!"

The tears wouldn't stop, they were flowing every where, Angela pulled me closer to her, and shot Booth her famous look, t_he _look. The one that sent shivers down even _my _spine. The Look.

"You…you're getting married? Married, Booth!" I paused, and swallowed, "I'm so, so, so, so, so happy for you! You're getting married? Whoa, I- I'm just so _happy_ for you." I tried to look at him seriously and say it to his face, but my eyes drifted to his lips. "Happy, you're happy, aren't you?" I asked because he wasn't smiling.

Those lips that I was never allowed to touch- that I always wanted to. Well if he could get _married_, to Alison Parkinson, then I'm allowed to touch those lips. I mean, Abigail. Abby Parkinson, maybe?

I grabbed his suit jacket lapels and pulled him towards me, and within a moment I was breathing _with_ him, we were together, again. We were Booth and- "Bones, what are you-"

I placed my 'index finger' on his soft, oh so _soft_, lips. "If you're aloud to get married, you know, leave me, for dead, without you, then I'm aloud to, at least, touch you, Booth. Isn't that fair? Don't you want to be fair with me? Just…just _touch_ me, Booth, please, do something. I need to prove to my self that I'm not out of mind, prove that I'm not mentally disturbed, just let me _have_ this one, okay? It's just a kiss, I need something to go crazy for, it would be…pathetic, and obsessive to have a broken heart, without a _kiss_. One more kiss, all I'm asking of you is a kiss, just a kiss, Booth…" I was blabbing I know, but Booth was looking at me as if I was crazy, and maybe I _was_.

Our lips were millimeters apart, but he was looking into my eyes. "Bones, it wouldn't be just a kiss."

"It _could_ be."

"If you think I'll _just_ kiss you, and stop there, you're sadly mistaken. Bones, if you think your lips aren't special to me, then I'm not sure I even want to…"

"I'll be on behavior for your wedding, if you give me a damned good bye kiss."

"There doesn't have to be a wedding." He whispered, looking me in the soul, straight past my eyes, my cool exterior, to my bones.

"But…but I see the way you look at her, at _her_, you sit where _we_ used to sit, you stare at her, watch her, like the world depends on it. You _bicker_ with her. Why would you do that? Don't you see what you're doing to me?"

"Why is everything about you, all the time? It's always who _you're_ going out with, maybe I want something to be about me. Not _you_." He was glaring at me, and I swallowed again.

"Because you don't love me, Booth. That's why it's about me. I'm the one _broken_ because…of you."

He snorted. "Are you really ignorant of _everything_? If I didn't know I would think you're the one that had a brain tumor."

"I'm ignorant, Booth, _I'm _ignorant. Wasn't it _you_ who put a line between us? Wasn't it you who said you loved me in a _professional_ _atta girl kind of way_? What does that mean, Booth? Because to me it means that you wanted to remind me, oh so _subtly_, that you don't want me, as if I could _ever_ forget, because I only see you _everyday_ of my life, even on the damned weekends."

"_Dr. Temperance Brennan_-"

"I'm ignorant, huh? Well, at least I know I am, but you don't seem to, huh, Booth?" I asked.

"No, I'm _not_."

"Did you know that you're breaking my heart? Did you know that I haven't had sexual intercourse ever since…since you were in the hospital? God, it's been a year! Did you know that I seriously thought about shooting my self, with my big gun that you didn't trust me to have? Did you know that I get aroused when we bicker, when we talk, when we're just _together_? Did you know that I can't compartmentalize _you_?Did you know that it hurts, to today, just _remembering_ that you don't want me, it hurts to think about you, and your lines, and your limits. And it hurts when you don't call me Bones, and when you…look at her like _that_. Did you know that asking me to be in the room, while you were being ripped apart, by _science_ and _doctors_, was the worst thing I've ever done? The most horrible thing, worse then your line, your death, your damned funeral, your comments that remind me I'll never be good enough for you. It was worse then your funeral, okay? And do you know _why_ it was so horrible, Booth? Do you know?"

"Obviously your point is I don't. In fact, I think you mean I don't know anything, Bones."

"Because you weren't there, in that room, so you can't possibly _know_. Imagine it, Booth. Imagine I was being cut open, from the _head_, with all the blood, and the sharp things, _probing_. And I couldn't leave the room, I couldn't tear my eyes away, because you asked me to watch over you, Booth, and what if…what if that was the last thing you asked of me? I had to do what you wanted me to, for once, or like always. I couldn't _move_…and then you were in that coma, and I was…_falling apart_. I _prayed to your God, prayed you would be okay, I prayed_. And you didn't wake up, you didn't wake up for 4 whole days, 4 whole nights."

"Baby, I'm sorry, oh, baby." He pulled me into his chest, and hugged me.

"Then you woke up, and I thought you would hug me, you would say something that was so completely Booth_, _so _you_, and all that horror, it would be worth it. But you…you asked who I was. And if you don't who I am, Booth, then who does? Because I don't…I don't see myself the way you do. And that thought, the thought that you were gone, along with me, it was just too much, I ran out of that hospital and got on a plane, and I haven't stopped working, since then, Booth, because if I take a second and think, and _dream_, I'll have nightmares, and…you wouldn't be next to me, you never have been, you'll be in your own bed, safely sleeping, snoring maybe, but it doesn't matter that I think you're okay, in your bed, on your couch, with Parker. If I _think_ about you, about you _gone_?"

"Baby, oh, Bones, my baby." He whispered against my hair. "I'm so sorry."

"But I don't deserve you, okay? I know I don't, and that hurts too, the fact you'll never want me, that I'll…I'll just have to _die_ like this, with you so close, and so far, and _now_? Now you're getting married, because you deserve that dream. You do, and I don't." 

"I'm a murderer."

"No, you aren't."

"Howard Epps did not slip from my fingers."

"Booth, I _saw_ that happen, I saw it…"

"I let him go."

"No you didn't. I was there."

"He was going to kill you."

"You are not a murderer."

"How do you do that? See me as such a damned hero? I've killed people"-

"I have killed too, but you don't call me a murderer. Maybe you should."

"Why?"

"Because I honestly don't care, I can't bring my self to feel bad about killing _her_."

"Her?"

I closed my eyes. "In the karaoke bar, _her_, who…the one who _sh-shot_ you. I think she deserved to die, and if I could do it again, I would do it all the same. I'd kill her, bam, one shot. If I could do it again I'd shoot her a lot more then once. She'd"-

"Bones."

"_What?_"

"I know how you feel about her."

"Well, I'm a cold blooded murderer."


End file.
